What the Heart Wants
by xGuiltyxPleasure
Summary: Evolution of Troy and Sharpay's relationship, told through Gabriella's POV. Troypay. Onesided Troyella. Oneshot.


I was sixteen years old when I first met Troy Bolton, at a Ski Lodge, over Winter Break, isolated, both of us apart from the different worlds we came from. There we just clicked. But maybe, as I thought on countless reflections in the months afterwards, it would have been impossible not to, for anyone. Neither of us had a friend to claim, we were miles away from the places we each called home, it was New Years Eve, fireworks were bursting outside, and we were thrust up on stage singing a cheesy love song to one another while a crowd of obnoxious drunk teenagers cheered us on. Any adolescent could have been held accountable for letting their fantasies run away with them. But everything just seemed so _perfect._

When I showed up at East High and discovered that my mysterious winter "romance" attended the same school, I, being the hopeless cheesy romantic that I am, took it as a sign of fate. Which, of course, was beyond foolish. Well, I was stupid to believe he was _my _soulmate, but perhaps my idea of starcrossed high school lovers wasn't so far fetched...

It was on the same day that I first walked the halls of East High that I first met her.

Sharpay Evans.

I was flirting with Troy near the sign ups for the winter musical. I wanted to play that game girls love to play with guys. It's always annoying when you're watching it take place between two other people but for some reason when it comes to my own interactions with the opposite sex, I'm always inclined to play it. The "game's" premises are extremely simple: The male repeatedly asks the female the same question, and no matter how bad she wants to say "Yes.", she always comes back with a firm, "No." Yes, it is annoying, but you know what the worse part about it is? It almost always backfires on the girl. The true challenge of the game, the object of winning, is deciphering the exact number of times you must answer back with a "No." and the number varies from guy to guy. You don't won't to cave in and say "Yes." too soon. That would reveal you for the sham you are, and make things awkward. But if you repeat your "No." again and again, he may give up on you and let it slide. Then there's no way back.

Troy was encouraging me to sign up for the musical. I was flattered, and I couldn't help but fight with him on it, hoping to play that infamous "game". I didn't really get much of a chance though. I'd flirtatiously suggested that if he were to make an appearance in the school production, I'd "consider" coming to the show.

No sooner had he retorted back, "That's completely impossible." with a cheeky grin, than she rounded the corner.

"What's impossible Troy?" She placed her right hand up above her on the wall, smirking at the two of us.

"I wouldn't think impossible was even in your vocabulary." she added with a smug smile, and turned around on her heels, a pen grasped in her silver nails, signing a well practiced signature on the sign up sheet, purposefully taking up all the room under the female lead section.

For spite.

I knew this was directed at me, a clear territorial message. But what was she marking? Her spot in the drama club, or Troy? I didn't understand what her intentions towards Troy were. I couldn't decide if she had slighted him for sheer meaness or in a flirtatious attempt. Maybe she wanted to embarass him in front of me, cut him down to size. Maybe she was... angry with him.

She'd slipped around the corner on perfect cue, and it was obvious she had been eavesdropping. I wondered if she had followed us.

Her outfit, in my opinion, was ridiculous. I could tell she was trying hard to be what she so badly wanted to be. A dream girl. A star. _Perfect. _

I didn't think her attempts were that impressive. She'd tried hard at that classic prima donna trend of decking yourself out in all pink. She'd added the collection of sparkles and sequins as a tribute to who she was, or rather who she wanted to be. They commanded attention, what she saught so desperately for, and they spoke loudly, almost screaming. Sharpay wanted to be heard.

When he saw her, Troy's eyes darkened. His nostrils flared, his neck stiffened, and I could see how tense she made him. But why? What was he looking at her with? Fear? Lust? Annoyance? Hatred?

All seemed possible.

He looked strained, like he was trying to hold himself back with all his strength from something.

He looked like at any moment he might grab her and using all his might either strike her or kiss her. I kept looking between them, truly suprised he hadn't acted on either of the impulses I imagined for him. But he stayed put.

She turned around and feigned suprise, "Oh! Were you going to sign up too?" It wasn't at all genuine, and I realized right away she didn't mean for it to be. She smiled at me, and it was almost as if she was faking being so fake.

"My brother and I have starred in all of our school's productions. And we really welcome new comers. There are a lot of supporting roles in the show." She said this slowly as if I might not understand this concept of theater, and then, wrinkling up her nose in a cruel smile she added, "I'm sure we could find something for you."

Something for me. She wanted so bad to put me in my place already. Whatever that "something" was, I knew it was going to be something meant to belittle me.

"No no no." I quickly said, pretending I had no interest in the musical. I stepped foward and though I tried to remain sweet tempered while I explained to her my intentions at East High were nothing beyond a straight A report card, I couldn't help but return my own version of her fake smile.

"A lot's going on in this school." I added with a look a bit too catty for my character and her smile dropped, as she now shot me a shameless glare. The look behind her eyes almost made me hate her.

But I don't hate anyone.

So I muttered a small resentful bye to her, turning and walking away, purposefully not saying anything else to Troy. He'd done nothing to stick up for me, and I sensed a thing between him and the bitchy blonde. I didn't want to tangle with her. I just wanted to float through the rest of high school, without being known as a freak, the way I had been at my other schools.

Still I turned around once I'd walked a small distance down the hall. Sharpay was following after me with her icy stare but when we locked eyes, she quickly flipped her head and smiled at Troy. It wasn't a fake smile this time, but rather a casual one that redeemed her human appearance, and she quickly moved beside him, so close that their shoulders touched. They walked down the hallway together.

"So Troy," I heard her say, and I started to slowly inch back down the hallway, still listening intently.

"I missed you during Winter Vacation." she said.

At that I picked up the speed of my walk, and tried to block out the rest of her words. I didn't know if she was his girlfriend or not, but I wasn't happy with the implied closeness that came from a girl telling a guy she missed him and I didn't want to hear anymore in case he told her he missed her too. I hoped I'd never have to engage in another conversation with her again.

But Sharpay didn't leave me alone after that. I was forced to talk to her again the same day.

It was in Pre-Cal, my favorite class second only to Chemistry. Unlike most students, I was working intently on the equations the teacher was demonstrating on the board, playing a game with myself to see if I could solve the example problems correctly before she finished. I knew it was tendencies like those that had so often caused me to be labled as socially rejectable at my other schools. But I can't help but find equations fun. I love the sense of accomplishment that comes out of solving something long and difficult.

Sharpay, however was concerned with things beyond Pre Calculus. I hadn't even noticed her in the class, as I had arrived first and chosen a seat near the very front. She had somehow slunk out of her seat and crept along to the table behind me. She knelt down in the nook underneath the top of the table.

"So." she began.

I jumped, and then cursed myself for it. I didn't want her to think she intimidated me. She honestly didn't. But I had been focusing so intently on the math problem. I didn't want to stop either. I was in my element, and I was highly irritated with Sharpay for trying to interrupt me.

"Seems like you knew Troy Bolton." she said casually. I glanced down on her. She had masked on an expression of innocence, as if we were just casually conversating. The idea of that was pretty laughable while she was crouched down in the middle of a math class room in all her glory of pink tweed and some sort of rhinestone embroidored corset made out of a material I used to dress my Barbies in.

"Um, not really." I said. I continued with my math problem, "He was just showing me around the school."

Sharpay looked at me disdainfully, "Well Troy doesn't usually interact with _new _students."

She took full ownership of Troy, it was clear in her voice. She was adamantly telling me what he did and didn't do, and I heard the defensiveness in her tone too. I knew what she was trying to convey to me:

_Mine. _

"Why not?" I asked, purposefully tuning my voice to a disinterested tone, one that I hoped would embarass her for coming to harass me. She had such a sense of entitlement about her, as if everyone would be interested in what she had to say.

"Well, it's pretty much basketball twenty four seven with him." she said this as if it were a bother to her, with a slight humorous note, rolling her eyes. Like she knew him _so _well. Like his basketball obsession bothered her because it took away from the time he could spend with other things. Like her?

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

"That should be sixteen over Pi." I muttered, ignoring her. I didn't say anything else to her, letting her know in that way, that her opinion meant nothing to me. I saw her jaw drop dramatically when I choose to answer a math problem rather than speak to her. She tapped her nails to command my attention to her anger. Still, I ignored her.

The next time Troy and I spoke was during the auditions for the musical. I showed up, despite my large issue with stagefright. I didn't think I'd actually summon the courage to audition myself, but I came just in case I finally was able too.

Though I tried not to admit it to myself, another reason I came was to see Sharpay. I was curious. I needed to see her performing, what she claimed was her area of expertise. "17 school productions." I later heard her shouting at Kelsi. At this high school, she was a professional. I had to know if she was actually talented, and I'm ashamed to say I was praying that she wasn't.

If it were not for the stage fright, I always could have been a performer. Troy had told me at the Winter Ski Lodge that I was an amazing singer, and it made my heart begin to beat off beat in a wonderful way. I couldn't stand the idea of him thinking the same thing about her, him paying her the same compliment.

Troy was hiding backstage as the auditions took place, using a janitor's cart as a sheild, and doing a horrible job of remaining incognito. I saw him before he saw me, as I snuck in through the back as well. He wasn't watching the horrible singing that was taking place on stage, but instead seemed entirely captivated with someone in the audience. And as I followed his gaze, there she sat, passing obvious judgement on all the hopeful performers with her largely exaggerated facial expressions, and her haughty smirks when Mrs. Darbus shouted, "Next!" verbaly ushering another frightened student up onto the stage.

When Troy saw me though, he shifted his look away from her with ease, and began to engage in conversation with me. He was nervous too and I thought it was adorable. The two of us snuck into two red plush seats to the right of the stage to continue watching the auditions together. Just as we had sat down Mrs. Darbus called Sharpay up along with her effeminate looking brother. The two strutted up the aisle of the auditorium onto the stage, and I must admit, I suddenly felt very jealous of her.

She looked different than she had the day before. Her outfit was less of a gamble in the attractive category. Regardless of the fact that the overdose of pink and sequins did not fit my tastes, she did look pretty in her knee length sparkly magenta skirt, tight pale pink blouse, and short sleeved cardigan covered entirely with silver sequins. Her blonde hair was styled with the perfect amount of body, still maintaining a soft look, falling just past her shoulder blades with a very small amount of curl. She was so concerned with her looks for the entire time I knew her, and I wish at some point I would have told her how much more attractive she would be if she would avoid her bitchy glares and manevolent snarls.

Troy didn't take his eyes off of her as she prissed about the stage. She walked behind the curtain and snapped dramaticaly for the curtain to close, her expression one hundred percent serious. I scoffed just a tiny bit at her arrogance. Troy turned, startled, and for a minute looked like he might have been upset with me for making the small noise. I considered blurting out, "What exactly is your relationship to that stupid bitch?" The exact words that had been running through my mind since the day before when she first spoke to me.

But once he seemed to process my scoff he chuckled a little and muttered, "Over the top much?" and I was glad I'd held my tongue.

"Yeah." I replied back, "She seems to come on a little strong."

The music began, and so did a performance just as ridiculous and glitzy as she was. I raised my eyebrows and covered my mouth with my hand to get the point across to Troy that I didn't think much of it. On some level, I was as convincing as I'd hoped to be, because when he turned and saw my expression, I saw him mimick it before returning his eyes to the stage. But, in a way, her performance also imitated her in her favor. I had the creeping notion in the back of my mind that it actually was _good _and I wondered if part of that came from her own persuasion. She seemed so convinced that her talent was nothing short of amazing, that it was hard not to believe her.

When her and her brother were done, they both bowed enthusiastically and I heard Troy clapping. I clapped weakly too, to seem polite, but very softly so that I was sure my applause wouldn't reach her on stage. I didn't like looking at the satisfaction on her face. She felt good about herself, proud of the preperation she'd done for the musical number, and happy to have performed it.

I watched seconds later as she chewed out the show's composer, Kelsi Neilson, and as horrible as it sounds, I thought to myself that Sharpay didn't deserve to feel good about herself. She just seemed awful.

The idea of Troy feeling anything for her disgusted me, but he redeemed himself after Sharpay had flounced out of the auditorium. Despite his fear of making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body, when I blurted out at the last minute my wishes to audition for a part in the musical, he hesitantly crept out from backstage and volunteered to sing with me in my audtion. Even though Mrs. Darbus refused to grant us one, I appreciated it.

The piano girl, Kelsi, was leaving, just as me and Troy were doing the same, feeling dejected. She tripped clumsily on the stairs, and the two of us rushed to aid her, helping her pick up her scoresheets.

Troy smiled at her and helped her up, and began dishing out compliments to her, proving why he truly was East High's "golden boy".

He told her she was the "playmaker" of the show, and I couldn't help but smile when she did, feeling all judgement I'd passed on him melting away. Kelsi dragged us over to the piano, wanting to play us the actual song before Sharpay had altered it in the same way she bedazzled her wardrobe. Despite Troy's reluctance, he followed, and the two of us sang the much slower and softer version of the song to Kelsi's accompaniment.

After we'd finished, I realized that if I had been forced to be honest, I would have had to say that I enjoyed Sharpay's version of the song better. She made it entertaining, and without her adjustments, it became very obvious that it had been written by a high school student. The cheesy lyrics were fitting with Sharpay's fast paced tempo and showy choreography, but it became devalued when Troy and I sang the original version. The lyrics were typical and the composition was something a nine year old with a year of piano lessons under her belt could have written.

I realized begrudgingly then that Sharpay really was talented. She may have not been the most incredible vocalist in the world, but she was an entertainer, and she did what she had to do to entertain to the best of her abilities.

When we finished singing the song Troy smiled and said, "That's really nice." and looked me in the eyes. I suddenly loved the song I had just completely berated in my mind.

I felt certain he had feelings for me.

"Bolton, Montez, you have a callback." Mrs. Darbus said as she appeared from wherever she had been lurking while listening to our song.

Troy's expression changed to bewilderment and horror. I tried to smile at him, to get him to return to the same state he had been in a minute ago, but the point was mute. The idea of going up for the lead in the musical was terrifying to him. I thought at the time that maybe he was just afraid of how his basketball team and the rest of the school would react. I had forgotten about the reaction of a certain blonde.

The entire school witnessed her "reacting" the next day when she let out an earsplitting scream upon the realization that the lead role hadn't been automatically handed to her. I didn't see it myself, but while standing in line in the cafeteria, word about it was already spreading like wildfire, along with the fact that Troy Bolton, the basketball superstar was up against prissy Ryan Evans for the lead male role of Arnold.

I was, however, fortunate enough to witness her deafening scream first hand that same day. While trying to maneuver my way through a thick crowd of annoying teenagers I somehow manged to crash directly into Sharpay's path as she descended the stairs, my chili fries colliding with her chest.

I hurriedly exclaimed how sorry I was, and tried to help clean her off. Her delayed reaction came seconds later, once she knew se had everyone's attention, and she nearly burst my right ear drum.

That was when Troy came rushing over. Chad Danforth pulled him away in a hurry, grabbing him, and deeming me and Sharpay's interaction as "too much drama".

Troy looked at Sharpay wistfully and then hesitantly heeded to Chad's advice. I realized then that he hadn't wanted to come over to support me but rather to comfort her.

She was busy rattling off to Mrs. Darbus in an over dramatic fashion about how I had "purposefully" dumped my lunch on her, an action somehow in connection with my secret diabolical plan to destroy her musical.

She looked back at Troy and shot him a heated glare and then yelled at Mrs. Darbus, "Troy Bolton and his basketball buddies are obviously behind it!"

"It" was this alleged plan Sharpay had formed as a lie in her head only seconds before, but already, I could see she actually believed it.

Troy looked at her in shock when she placed the blame on him, and I saw the clear definition of anger in his face. He looked betrayed. But he did nothing when she stormed off, instead walking with Chad away from the scene.

Troy and I grew closer while preparing for the musical auditions. Our one large fight was ignited when he professed to all his basketball buddies that I "meant nothing." It broke my heart. Troy meant a lot to me, and even though we made up on his own insistence that he did care for me, I was still aware that my feelings for him seemed to run much deeper than the ones he returned.

Sharpay didn't stop her vengeful tyrade. She convinced Mrs. Darbus to change the callback day to the same day that Troy's basketball chamionship game and my scholastic decathlon took place. Kelsi relayed the story to us.

When he heard Chad angrily exclaimed, "Do you know what we're going to do to those two overgrown showdogs?"

Without a second's pause Troy quickly shot back, "Nothing! We're not going to do anything to them."

I knew it would be stupid to feel jealous because of that, but I did. Somehow it felt like he was protecting her by not allowing her to get what she deserved.

My notion that he wanted to protect her was changed when we formed a plan and showed up for the callbacks anyways. Sharpay was furious that her scheme had fallen through the roof and stepped foward, approaching Kelsi, who had just ran back onto the stage, announcing herself as our pianist.

"You really don't want to do that." Sharpay said, her eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes. I really do." Kelsi shot back.

I glanced back at Troy and his expression was shocking. It was smug, and he looked for Sharpay's reaction amusedly. He almost looked like he was daring her with his eyes to say something else.

Her ego was temporarily shattered, I could tell, and she tried to remain in the character she had created for herself, putting a hand to her mouth in shock, and stomping behind her brother as if she needed his protection to sheild her from the mousy four foot eleven girl in front of her.

Sharpay and Ryan stormed away from us, but she never even had the decency to exit the stage. She walked to the very back of the stage, and stood, arms crossed, one hip jutted out, prepared to watch us.

Ryan at the time followed everywhere she went. Basically whenever she commanded, "Jump." he would recite back, "How high?" He stood beside her but no malice was visible in his face. He was really too simple of a guy to be capable of the kind of hatred his sister could harbour anyways.

Troy helped me find the confidence to sing in front of a huge crowd, and the song we sang was by far Kelsi's best. When it ended and the crowd applauded loudly, Troy leaned in. I braced myself for our first kiss. I recieved a kiss, on the cheek, the way a guy kisses his sister. He grinned at me so sweetly though, that I chose not to let it bother me.

After the curtain closed though, Sharpay still stood, in the same spot she had claimed throughout our song. She glared heatedly at us.

"You'll be sorry Troy." she snapped at him as soon as we had paused in front of the opposing duo of twins.

"Sharpay." Troy said in a "please don't start this now" tone.

She didn't say anything else, but turned prissily in her heels and stormed off, her blue feathered skirt flying behind her.

"Hey," Troy said to me, "I'm going to go talk to her. I'll meet you outside."

"But you need to get back to the gym." I reminded him, "The championship game?"

"Tell Chad to keep the teams in the auditorium." Troy said, "He'll stall."

"Why would you want to go talk to her?" I blurted out.

Troy looked at me, suprised.

"She's not nice." I said. I realized how childish I sounded.

"You don't know her." he said, and then he turned and hurried after the direction she'd left in.

His comment had been casual, and meant to defend Sharpay, not to insult me. Still, it stung. I hated being the new girl, and had finally started to feel at home at East High. His statement made me feel like he was alienating me again. I walked slowly back into the auditorium where I stood and talked to Taylor McKessie and a number of Troy's basketball friends. Still, my mind kept wandering backstage, wondering what was going on between Troy and Sharpay. I never found out, but after Troy and his teamates won the championship game she walked over to me, all smiles, and wished me luck in the musical. I was shocked at her sudden change in character, and admitedly, I wasn't happy about it. I didn't like the suspicious notion in my head that Troy might have been the one who had caused Sharpay's sudden kindness.

I congratulated Troy on the big win, and he finally pulled me in as if he really were going to kiss me this time. Then Chad interrupted. Troy acted as if he were irritated, but still, he didn't go in for another kiss, something that he could have easily done... had he really wanted to. I wondered again how he actually felt about me. I truly believe that he sincerely _wanted _to like me, but yet, it seemed as if he was unable to persuade his own emotions to partake in romantic endeavors with me.

But I did get my first kiss from Troy later that night at Chad's after party.

Troy had been dancing with me for a while, along with a large number of other friends. Sharpay and Ryan showed up at the party, suprisingly. When she walked in the door, Troy ran over to her, and escorted her into the living room. She looked around, smiling, actually looking approachable for once.

Troy rejoined us, but couldn't stop glancing in her direction. Eventually she just settled into a couch looking rather out of place. Even Ryan had joined in on the dancing, and seemed to be enjoying himself. Troy muttered something to us about being back shortly and walked over to her. I watched him take her hand and pull her up off of the sofa, leading her into the makeshift "dancefloor" of the living room. I danced with Taylor and Kelsi and tried to keep myself from looking at them.

He danced with her through two fast paced songs, and then a slow love song began playing through the speakers. I willed myself again and again not to look over at the two of them, knowing it would only upset me. Eventually, though, I was unable to resist sneaking a glance.

He held her tighter than any other guy dancing with a girl at the party. Both of his arms were wrapped all the way around her back, in a complete embrace, and she had her cheek rested on his chest, her eyes closed, showing off the shimmery eyeshadow adorned on her eyelids. He had bowed his head down into her hair, looking peaceful and content.

Taylor stopped dancing when I had gone without movement for too long, and looked over to where I was staring. She rubbed my back gently.

"He's just being a nice guy. Chad said he's crazy about you." she said soothingly.

Sharpay looked up at Troy, in a lovey-dovey fashion, and I thought I might be sick. Troy looked down at her, and registered the look in her eyes. Suddenly his own dark blue orbs bulged in alarm, and he seperated her a few inches from him. He smiled politely, and placed his hands on both of her elbows while saying goodbye. Sharpay looked dumbfounded.

He rushed over to me, and without warning, grabbed me, pulling me in for a rough, emotionless kiss. Cheers and whoops began to erupt around the room, and Troy snapped his head back away from mine again.

Sharpay looked furious, so much that I could have sworn she was shaking while she glared at us. She stormed out of the room, and left the party. She slammed the front door so hard that the living room walls shook and Ryan, looking up in alarm, immediately figured out she was responsible, and ran outside after her.

Troy didn't say anything to me afterwards, but headed over to the table to get a drink. He gulped it down in a matter of seconds, and stood there for a moment, alone, regaining his composure, before he rejoined me.

I didn't like my first kiss. I felt used. For what exactly, I didn't know.

* * *

Troy and I were official after that. I had a boyfriend, and not just any boy either, but one of the most popular guys at East High. That combined with my lead role in the musical was definitely a step up from my position at the other schools that had coined me as "the freaky math girl." What's more, Troy really seemed to like me. He tried very hard to be the perfect boyfriend. Sometimes though, I wondered if he did that to convince both of us that he really wanted to be my boyfriend, and at times I wasn't sure if he truly did. Still, I honestly liked being around him, and I think he enjoyed my company too. That summer he got us both a job.

At a country club owned by her parents.

He didn't tell me that there was any correlation between my job and Sharpay Evans' family. If he had, I definitely would have turned it down. Once I found out, he claimed he had no idea that she had been the one who had asked our boss, Mr. Fulton, to hire us. I could never decide rather or not to believe him.

Sharpay wanted him, and she made that very clear that summer with her shameless efforts at getting his attention, throwing herself at him, and dragging him away from me at every chance possible. I wondered how he could possibly want her too. She was just so _desperate. _

He tried his hardest to resist her and to maintain a steady relationship with me. But I saw the difference in the way he treated her when the rest of us were around and the way he looked at her when he thought no one else was watching. His eyes changed when he looked at her in a way that he never looked at me with. Sometimes he looked at me like he was trying to see me through the same eyes he watched her with. I wondered if it always failed.

He neglected me more and more, showing up incredibly late on dates, canceling plans last minute, and worst of all, he was doing it all to bend to her wishes, and not mine. That's not the way a boyfriend should treat his girlfriend. So, I finally left my job, and I finally left Troy. I didn't do either before taking the chance to tell off Sharpay, and it felt good. After she ran off upset, Troy, who had walked in on the middle of me yelling at her, begged me not to leave. I wondered why he didn't just run off to comfort her. I refused to listen to him, convinced I was done with letting him hurt me, and left.

But Taylor convinced me to come back. She told me how he too had told Sharpay off for treating the world like dirt, and had refused to sing in the talent show with her. She begged me to come back to Lava Springs and sing with Troy. My foolish heart eventually allowed me to be persuaded.

Troy and I sang in perfect meledoious harmony, and I felt the same way I felt when we first sang together, back at the Winter Ski Lodge. Like it was meant to be.

But then he let go of my hand and walked to the side of the stage, where she stood. She looked gorgeous as always, but perhaps was made even more lovely by the wind blowing her hair and the sad fragility on her face that I had never seen before. He pulled her up onto the stage with him and when her face lit up, my joy diffused completely. I felt my smile grow tense, and it hurt then, stretched so widely across my face while I forced scratchy notes up my tightened throat. But I didn't stop.

Sharpay's smile lit her entire pretty face up, and I hated her more for it. She'd never be beautiful. Not to me. I thought her soul was too ugly. Still, even I was sometimes thrown by her prepossessing charm and I saw the worth of the face that tempted Troy.

It was later that I found out from Ryan and Kelsi that Troy had come back and apologized to Sharpay, agreed to sing with _her, _learned a new song for _her, _and was expecting _her _when I walked up to the stage. He had never even come after me.

When we finished our song, Mr. Fulton climbed up on stage, beaming at the crow, award in hand. As he began to announce the winner of the award, clearly Troy and me, she grabbed both the microphone and the Star Dazzle Award out of his hand, commanding the show once again.

"My brother, Ryan Evans!" she said smiling mega-watt.

And she came out on top. So gracious, so reformed, able to see the error of her ways and improve herself for the better. I knew it was all a crock. Sure, I was happy for Ryan. He turned out to be a wonderful guy, perhaps humbled by his life spent in his sister's shadow. But Sharpay had no right to announce the winner of the talent show that night, even if it was her country club. She hadn't won the award in the first place. Still, I couldn't say anything about it without falling from grace in everyone's eyes, so I remained silent.

That night she hung all over Zeke's arm, like she suddenly had a right to. He showed no self respect and allowed it, hanging on her every word and stealing glances at her every fraction of every second. He was worth nothing to her, simply a fall back when she had no other place to turn, but he didn't seem to care.

Troy kissed me on the golf course that night. And when he pulled away, again I saw it. Him trying so hard to look at me the way he was condemned to look at her.

* * *

Senior year Troy and I had grown very serious. I was in love with him, and I wanted so badly to believe he loved me too. As foolish as it was, if he had asked me to marry him directly out of high school I knew I would have said yes without a second's pause.

The "threat" she posed now seemed almost laughable. We were growing older, supposedly maturing, and yet she was still the same ridiculous, over aspiring, wannabe I had met when I first came to East High. She was gaining in sex appeal, but not much else.

Her schemes were uninspired. Taking my place in the musical as the lead opposite Troy while I was off at Stanford on early admission. True, it did almost work. Troy and I even broke up again, once again due to my own discretions, which hatched when I got a taste of college life. But he came after me, and brought me back to East High for the night of her performance. It was almost cruel to her, I admit.

But I thought him coming after me meant that at least some part of him was in love with me. Maybe some part of him was. Evidently, just not a large enough portion.

She was left abandoned on the stage during her big duet number with Troy, until his understudy, an extremely dorky freshman, strutted out on stage, earning cheers for himself and ruining the sanctity of her own performance. The satisfaction I felt when she stormed off stage, in a fit of anger, just before Troy and I ran on stage and sang together, was undeniable. We earned a shattering applause.

Sharpay's understudy, who turned out to be a little brat with a desire for the spotlight just as poisness as Sharpay's, started off her song with as much conviction in her performance as Sharpay herself, but unfortunately she also lacked the talent. Sharpay descended from the ceiling and took the attention away from Tiara Gold, stealing the show again, playing the role of _Sharpay _and no one else, and taking back what was _hers. _Troy hugged her backstage before we reentered for our honary "graduation" and a surge of old familar jealously came flooding back in. Still, I tried my best to not let it bother me.

On stage, when she was not rewarded the Juliard Scholarship she'd fought so hard for I felt my spirits rise again. Then it was announced she'd be attending the University of Albuquerque, the same university that Troy had planned on playing basketball at for years.

But Troy stepped foward and announced he was attending Berkley, to pursue both basketball and theater. And to pursue me, so he said. I was thrilled. Finally, it seemed like my dream might come true. I could pursue my academics to my heart's content while at Stanford, while Troy would be mere miles away, coming to visit me regularly, while Sharpay was far away from Troy and his thoughts.

She had a reaction. A small one, but still, I caught it, because I was looking for it. She was suprised, and dissapointed, maybe even... angry? And then she clapped lightly, while wearing a small smile of defeat.

The next day was our real graduation, and afterwards Troy through a party at his house that it seemed almost the entire senior class attended. But maybe I'm only imagining that. My brain renders things hazy, as if some sort of quivering fog had fallen over the entire night, and I was a mere passerby witnessing the events. I truly never felt like Gabriella that night. I was somebody else entirely. No one, perhaps.

I think I knew it was over when I first spotted them together, in the corner of the living room, near the staircase. She may have been a little drunk, and was talking to him harshly, if not quite yelling, occasionally ramming his chest with the palms of her hands. Soon they both were squabbling, Troy looking just as upset and emotional as she did. They exchanged turns between yelling at the other, and standing their taking the verbal abuse with a pained look that bordered on the verge of tears. They attracted more bystanders as they grew more animated, but I was too far away to ever make out what they were saying.

Finally, she was screaming at him, and I heard her, though her words weren't clear enough to make out entirely. She grew more and more upset, and he stopped yelling back at her, instead listening with an appolegetic frown. She finished shouting with a large thrust of her hands, and turned swiftly on her heels, storming through the path of students scrambling out of the way, and up the stairs in a huff.

I stared after her, knowing what came next. She had to have known he'd follow her.

And he did. He came rushing after her immediately, dashing up the stairs while I stood at a distance at the bar counter of the ajoining kitchen, completely frozen. I looked around frantically finding that none of my friends were nearby. I turned to the girl next to me, a freckly petite cheerleader whose name I couldn't recall. She too was staring at the empty stairwell Sharpay and then Troy had just ascended, looking just as enthralled, though in a less horrific way.

"What should I do?" I asked her, needing someone's help, even if it was a complete stranger.

"Huh?" she asked turning her head sideways to look at me.

"Troy, my boyfriend... What should I do?" I repeated.

Realization dawned on her and then she shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know!" she replied.

I took in a large gulp of hot, sticky air, rendered that way from the large mass of moving bodies in the room. I slowly approached the stairs, aware of how painstakingly slow I was walking. I needed to brace myself for what I might find when I reached the second floor.

I finally reached the stairs and began to climb them. When I neared the top I began to hear her coming from down the hall. My worse high school fear was becoming realized.

I followed her high pitched, desperate moans to the bedroom, and as sick as I knew it was, I walked to the doorway and peaked inside.

His pants were discarded on the floor, and her skirt had been pulled down off of her, lying underneath her on the bed. He pounded into her, grunting, while she released her whimpers and repeatedly cried, "I need you."

They must have wasted no time. The upperhalf of their bodies remained completely closed. I felt sick, and furious, but I couldn't stop myself from watching. I was interested. He used one hand to repeatedly pull her by her chin closer to his face, storking her cheek and temple, and forcing her eyes to look into his while he moved inside of her.

They orgasmed loudly together, and then he collapsed into her, burrying his head into her neck. Afterwards, she let her back arch up, and leant her head backwards while he nuzzled her neck. That's when she saw me. She jumped slightly, only silently, but then relaxed again, and never breathed a word to me. Instead she brought her hands up to his head, running her french manicured nails through his hair.

"I love you." she murmured to him.

He mumbled into her neck "I love y-"

I gasped, making my first noise, and slammed the bedroom door, running as fast as I could down the stairs and out the front door. I left his house in record time, never knowing if he saw me there or not. Maybe she told him.

The most twisted thing about the end of this story is I only recieved one phone call after that. He was my boyfriend of a year and a half, who had supposedly planned his college around me, and who had claimed that he wanted to be with me above all else. But in the end, I got one phone call that I never answered, with a fourteen minute long voicemail I never finished listening to. It was just too hard. I don't know what he said after I deleted the message, but after that he never called again, and I most certainly didn't plan on calling him back.

As far as I know, Troy Bolton never showed up to Berkley either. I'm not sure if I ever really believed we would end up together or not. When I saw him making love to her that night, I knew what the truth was. It had always been her, never me. I think he had tried so hard to make it work between the two of us because he would have rather it been me than her. Maybe he would have settled for anybody over her, but you can't help who you love.

He said the same to me in the last voicemail he ever left, the one I never finished, after the hundreds we'd been through during my time at East High,

"The heart wants what the heart wants... even that which is worst for it."

* * *

**A/N: Personally, I liked this. I hoped you all did as well. It's pretty different though from the other stuff I've done, so I'm not sure what you'll think. **

**I don't know why exactly I decided to write this, but the idea popped into my head and I started harping on it, and had so many ideas for it, that I had to write it. It took a lot of time. **

**Also, there are so many angsty Sharpay POV stories out there that end Troyella while she pines for Troy that I figured I would flip it a little. I actually thought of this quote waayy into writing the story, but when I did, I knew it was perfect for Troy's feelings on Sharpay so I added it. **

**If you read it, leave me an honest review telling me what you thought please. :) xoxo.**


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